


Surf-Side

by Kienova



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: 2016 Christmas special, F/M, Smut, beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienova/pseuds/Kienova
Summary: The evening sunset, on a beach in South Africa.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because everything in my brain turns into porn apparently...

The others had left twenty minutes before, sighting a need to explore the area surrounding the beach as Trixie swore she saw some zebras. Patrick and Shelagh elect to remain on the beach, watching as Fred eventually sigh and gave chase a few moments after the others cross over the crest of the hill. Patrick wraps his arm around his wife, leading her along the edge of the shore, gently nudging her hip with his playfully as they walk, heart beating faster at the content smile she gives him in answer, eyes half lidded.

The setting sun, casting its last warm rays of light on the beach and highlighting the golden flecks of sand and the strands in her hair break his resolve as he lets out a shuddering sigh. He leans forward, grabbing her upper arms and yanking her toward him, revelling in the soft noise she makes in shock. She barely has time to process what is happening before she felt his lips on hers, the kiss insistent, hot, hard and rushed in a way that sets her blood alight, breaking down any barriers of resolve that she possesses towards such a public display with the motion of his tongue against hers.

Her breath hitches as she feels his hands move down her body, skating over her lower arms and wrists before moving to her torso, his deft fingers coming to land on her hips, the warmth of his palm seeping into the fabric of her romper and then into her skin, the muggy air paling in comparison to the heat of her husband. She tangles her hands in his hair, feeling the way the sea has brought salt clinging to the strands, her fingers raking up from the nape of his neck to the crown of his skull, keeping them pressed together as long as she can as her lungs start burning for air.

She breaks away from him reluctantly, pulling in oxygen as he attaches his lips to her jawbone, trailing kissing down her neck to her collarbone, nosing against the blue fabric of her romper until he is able latch onto the delicate flesh there. She can feel him worrying the skin with his teeth, sucking thin porcelain into his mouth as he creates a delicate bruise, soothing the mark with his tongue at her hiss of breath. She easily feels her mind start to become clouded, her body responding to his touches even as her mind told her that it was still light out. That it was public. That their companions could come back from their sunset walk at any moment and disturb the solitude they found themselves granted in the waning light.

His hands move from her hips then, trailing burning lines of contact up her ribs until he reaches her chest, his thumb tracing over a rapidly hardening nipple through the fabric of her swimming costume and sending a soft moan rattling free of her throat.

“Patrick,” she murmurs, unable to stop how her hips press towards him, her breast pushing further into his hand as he gingerly walks her backwards, her feet hitting the edge of the water. She feels the waves splashing about her ankles as he guides her further, her back softly colliding with one of the monolithic rocks that rises from the edge of the surf. Her head lulls forwards, her brow resting on the soft fabric of his shirt, her hand leaving his neck to travel to the small space between them, fingers tracking downward until they’re able to find the growing hardness in his trousers.

She presses gingerly with the heel of her palm, smiling into his shirt when she feels the answering thrust of his hips, unconscious and uncontrolled in the moment of their embrace.

“Tease,” he whispers in her ear, squeezing her breast harder until he is able to catch her nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolling it and tugging softly. His other hand moves away from her ribs and down to her centre, sliding between their bodies until he is able to cup her between her legs. She gasps, grinding herself against his fingers as he rubs her clit, the feeling of the fabric creating a new sensation as the inseam slides across her. It only takes him a moment before he’s able to push the fabric aside, his fingers creeping underneath until he’s able to glide them through the wetness he finds. Shelagh can’t help but bite into his shoulder when he pushes two digits inside her, stroking her with the pad of his thumb while he draws his fingers in and out.  

“Now who’s teasing,” she grits out, trying to regain the upper hand as she strokes him through his trousers, finally managing to hook a finger on the fastenings and undo them. She slides a hand beneath the cloth almost instantly, pulling his erection free from the fabric until she can manage to wrap her fingers around him, tugging softly.

“I can’t help it,” he grins, nipping at her jaw again, using his free hand to wrap around her waist and hike her up out of the surf, pressing her more firmly into the rocks. “This swimming costume of yours does things to me.” She giggles, whimpering as he takes his fingers away a second before batting her hand to her side. He uses the opportunity to take his own cock in hand and guide it to her entrance, making sure the fabric of her romper is out of the way before he presses forward, moaning loudly into her skin as he sinks inside her.

She rolls her hips almost instantly, desperate for the friction and the way her husband’s eyes practically roll back into his head at the feeling of her body clinging to his as he moves his pelvis in short, quick, jabbing thrusts punctuated by grinding circles. Patrick hisses as she grabs his shoulders for better leverage, pulling herself up slightly before dropping back down in a counter rhythm to his own. Shelagh can’t contain the rapid string of whimpers and moans that fight to break free of her, slotting her mouth against Patrick’s in a bid to keep herself quiet.

They don’t take long, the heightened risk of their public joining and the rapid way Patrick thrusts into her sending Shelagh spiralling into her release quickly, a bitten off yelp the only warning before her body clamps around him, nerves sparking and muscles clenching rhythmically as her body shudders slightly before she melts against him. Patrick follows a few heartbeats later, pushing as tight to her as he can manage as he plunges into his own orgasm, pouring himself into her with hitched breaths.

They stay locked together for a few minutes before Shelagh presses one last sloppy kiss to Patrick’s lips before loosening her legs from around her waist, not sure when they had even gotten there, as he pulls out of her, gingerly lowering her feet down into the surf. They regard each other in the last few rays of light with soft expressions before simultaneously bursting into giggles as they straighten their clothes back into some semblance of presentability.

He takes her hand as they walk along the edge of the ocean, Shelagh tucking herself into his side just as they see Tom and Barbara clearing the hill at the other end of the beach.

“Love you,” Patrick whispers, placing a quick kiss on the crown of Shelagh’s head before he waves at the others. She smiles, sighing contentedly.

“I love you too.”


End file.
